i'll follow you into the dark
by kamikazehearts
Summary: damon/caroline. "She holds her hand out wordlessly, and he makes a big show of rolling his eyes before taking it."


**a/n: **sigh. If only their relationship was revisited. Sadness. Story is kind of AU, but not that much, I hope. I don't like veering off from the true nature of the characters too much, so I hope I met my goal. I know it's a bit rushed and bipolar in some places but I hope I did this amazing duo justice. Pay mind that some of these scenarios are spaced apart. I got the idea for the prompt for this story from **jackiekennedy**.

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><p><em>No blinding lights or tunnels to gates of white<br>just our hands clasped so tight,  
>waiting for the hint of a spark.<br>__**death cab for cutie**_

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><p>The first time he sees her, he almost feels sorry for her.<p>

His vampire hearing picks up this poor blonde's tirade to her friend about being second best to Elena, and his ears instantly perk up when he hears the doppelgänger's name come into mention. His brow furrows imperceptibly when he hears this _Caroline_ discuss her one-sided rivalry with Elena.

He grins maniacally to himself, thinking that he was in the right place at the perfect time and smiles in her direction, pleased when he receives a fervent smile in return. The insecure blonde is exactly the kind of leverage he needs in his diabolical master plan to get Katherine back.

He thinks it a shame, because he can't help but admit that the teenage girl is positively gorgeous, but Damon immediately buries the thought.

She's means to an end, nothing more.

...

The first time he fucks her, it's a blur of ecstasy.

He places kisses on every single inch of her body, sinking his fangs into others, allowing himself to indulge in her blood and her sex. A smug smirk graces his lips when he hears her moan as he teases her, gasp when he finally succumbs to her - _their_ - desires, and scream his name when her sweet release peaks at the exact same time his does.

When all is done and they're staring at her ceiling, both coming down from the high their bodies just flourished in, Caroline impulsively wraps her arms around his bare middle, laying her head on his toned chest and closing her eyes blissfully, oblivious to the way the vampire freezes.

"That was..._amazing_," she breathes. "_You're_ amazing."

Damon stays quiet, pondering her words.

He leaves before her eyes open.

...

The first time he dances with her, it's like something out of a movie.

Caroline stares at the scenery as they speed by, head resting against her window as she fiddles with her fingers in her lap. Being around Damon always makes her nervous, and although she wants nothing more than to reach over and hold his hand while he drives, she knows it's not an option.

She cranes her neck in confusion when the car rolls to a stop.

"Dammit," he growls. He turns to her, exasperation tainting the features of his beautiful face. "Engine's dead. I'll call to get your car towed. Let's go, Blondie."

He gets out of her car and she purses her lips for a millisecond before she does as told, eyes peering around at the long stretch of deserted road, nothing surrounding them but trees. Her anxiety rolls off of her in waves and he scoffs.

"Oh, please. Whatever goes bump in the night, I can handle it," he assures her sardonically.

She nods, looking upward at the twinkling stars for some comfort. Her eyes travel to Damon and she internally swoons. He is seriously the epitome of flawless. She admires the way his blue eyes grow more prominent in the moonlight from her peripheral vision.

"It's not polite to stare."

She ignores him, bout of courage hitting her at full force.

"Dance with me."

"No."

She huffs. "Please, Damon? No one's around and it's a beautiful night. Not to mention, you seriously look hotter than ever right now. I promise I won't tell."

He guffaws. "Like it's possible to look any better."

Of course that's the only thing he got out of everything she said.

She holds her hand out wordlessly, and he makes a big show of rolling his eyes before taking it. She squeals with delight when he spins her into him and her hands fly to his chest while his find her waist.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

She laughs when he dips her, eyes shining with glee when she sees him smiling that eye-crinkling smile that she loves best. Her heart flutters when she realizes it's genuine.

All she can think of is how this moment parallels _The Notebook_, but not really, because she's not as smart as Allie and he's not as gentle as Noah, and every crevice of her mind is filled with doubt, telling her they were never meant to be forever.

She doesn't care, just grins and lets him twirl her, thinks they're perfect anyway.

...

The first time he makes her cry, he doesn't mean it.

She's a baby vampire and she needs to be trained. Somehow, Stefan has managed to coerce him into taking responsibility upon this task, and that's how Caroline finds herself in the living room of the boarding house on Saturday morning.

While he totally kicks her ass most of the time he lunges himself at her, he's got to admit that he was having difficulty keeping his hold on the blonde, internally commending her for her stealth. A part of him is even a tad proud of her, considering the fact that he _did_ technically sire her.

After their session, he walks over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of bourbon, raising an eyebrow when he turns around and finds her still standing there.

"What're you waiting for, Barbie? Don't you have a boyfriend to dogsit or something? Scram."

She crosses her arms. "Could you _not_ be an asshole for five seconds?"

"I'll stop the day you're not a whiny little twit, honey."

"At least I don't whine about wanting what I can't have."

She knows it's a low blow, and Caroline regrets it the minute the words leave her lips. However, before she can apologize, he retaliates.

"And you wonder why you're always second best," he mumbles spitefully.

He knows it wouldn't go by unheard.

He fights to keep his expression stoic when he sees her bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling, and he knows exactly what's coming next. His jaw clenches imperceptibly when he smells the salt of her tears.

Just like that, the sunshine that the bubbly blonde seems to always be emanating dwindles.

"You're one to talk," she seethes, grabbing her bag and marching out of his house. Her words hit him like a tidal wave, and he's flabbergasted when he realizes she's right.

She trains with Stefan after that.

...

The first time he holds her, her mother is lying in a coffin six feet underground.

She knows it should be Stefan's shirt she's ruining with her tears, not Damon's, but it's the elder Salvatore that she finds when she goes looking for her best friend.

He looks at her with a pained expression, already knowing the cause behind the mascara trails her tears have left on her porcelain skin. Damon opens his arms in an invitation and she doesn't hesitate, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

"Shh," he soothes, running his hand through her blonde tresses. He frowns, feeling her body shake with tremors, knowing she's about to start hyperventilating. He pulls back, his hands grabbing the sides of her face, trying to catch the attention of her frantic eyes. "Caroline, look at me. Hey, look."

She abides. His cerulean eyes meet hers, which were once so lively, so full of cheer, and he notes with distaste that all the color and personality seems to have drained from her irises. He runs his thumbs over her cheeks gently, growing relieved with each passing second that her breathing returns to normal.

"Although we've had our differences and I totally suck, you can talk to me," he tells her sincerely.

She is minutely shocked for a split second at how caring he's acting towards her, filing away this experience for later use. Caroline nods shortly, hesitating to continue for a moment, the only sound in the room being the flames licking at each other from the fireplace. She takes a seat on the couch, patting the spot next to her to indicate he take a seat, and he obliges.

"Damon..." she begins, "all my life I've never been anyone's first choice. That spot was always reserved by Elena - I love her more than you could imagine, but still. That's the way it's always been." His eyes soften at her admittance, knowing how she felt all too well. "The _one_ person on this entire planet who actually put me above all else, is _gone_," she chokes out, voice cracking. "And I didn't even get to tell her how much I appreciate it, and how much I love her, and how I don't care that she's the sheriff and I barely get to see her, that when I do, it's amazing because despite everything she's the best mom in the world and I'm sorry for being a shitty daughter and that I'll never stop trying to make it up to her, and now I _can't_," she sobs, clutching at his shirt like he's her lifeline. "She'll never see me walk the stage on graduation or help me pack for college or maybe even get married. We'll never go travel around Italy like I promised her we would do once she retired. None of that's gonna happen."

He gives her an apologetic smile before placing his hand over hers, hoping he conveys all the things he can't bring himself to say in the skin contact.

She crumbles once more and leans back into him, his arms wrapping around her frame awkwardly as she snuggles her face into his chest. It's times like these that he wishes he were somewhat functional when it came to comforting crying girls, although he didn't seem to be doing such a horrible job, judging by the way Caroline's sobs had subsided into mere sniffles.

"Damon?" she whispers into his shirt.

"Hmm?"

"Will you go with me to visit her tomorrow? My mom? I don't think I'm ready to go alone and I completely understand if you don't want to, although -"

"Hush, Blondie. You worry too much," he admonishes lightly, pressing his lips to her temple. "I'll go."

The next day, he holds her hand, fingers interlaced, while she cries to her mother's tombstone, and doesn't let go.

Not once.

...

The first time he kisses her, actually kisses her, it's because he's leaving.

She notices the suitcases on the doorstep of the boarding house and walks in quickly, pointing accusingly at Damon's luggage.

"What is the meaning of that?"

He rolls his eyes. "Take a wild guess."

Recognition settles in and he purses his lips when he sees her face fall. She doesn't try to stop him - hell, Caroline can't even say she's surprised he's leaving. Figures, just when she has a reason to actually want him in her life, he decides to take off. Talk about impeccable timing, she thinks.

Klaus is dead and Elena has dug deep enough into Stefan's conscience, convincing him to turn his emotions back on completely, thus reviving their flame.

All is well in Mystic Falls.

He shrugs. "It was only a matter of time."

"Where are you going?"

"Wherever the road takes me," he mutters in a sing-song voice.

She nods solemnly, staring at his shoes, watching as they step in her direction. He tilts her chin up with his finger and smiles at her. He ignores the way his stomach churns when he thinks about living without her smile and chattiness and tendency to be the main nuisance in his life.

"Believe it or not, _Caroline_, I'm gonna miss you," he whispers.

Before she registers what's happening, he leans in and his lips meet hers. She hesitates for a moment before bringing her hands up to cup his face. This isn't like any kiss she's shared with him before. It's gentle and caring without the undertone of him using her being so prominent. They're Damon and Caroline, both vampires, both troubled, and both kissing.

She refuses to be over-analytical and look into any hidden subtext she could find, because that will only lead her to trouble and she wants anything but.

No, he just kissed her because she's become a constant in his life and now he's leaving the familiarity of them behind and that is _it_.

He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, bringing his hands to rest over her forearms.

"I really hope that's not your way of telling everyone goodbye."

He laughs and his eyes twinkle with mirth. "Even _I_ have some qualms about being so kinky." He sighs. "I should get back to packing. Goodbye, Caroline."

She shakes her head and grins. "No. None of that 'goodbye' crap. Did you really think I'd let you rid yourself of me that easily?" she questions, feigned shock lacing her words.

"Well, a guy can dream."

She rolls her eyes. "I'll see you later, Damon."

They both ignore the way it feels like their lips are on fire for the rest of the day.

...

The first time he sees her again, they're in Venice.

He's sitting at a table at the _Piazza San Marco_, serenely taking sips of coffee as he reads a novel, occasionally looking up to scan the crowd leisurely, when he spots her. The way she's sitting makes it clear that it is indeed Caroline Forbes he's staring at, but also lets him know that she can't see him by the way she's angled towards the livelihood in the square.

He's behind her in less time than it took to blink, conspicuity be damned.

"It's later."

He notices the way her shoulders tense for a split second before she turns around and beams at him.

"Damon!"

Caroline wastes no time in engulfing him in her arms and he can't help but smile when her squeal of contentment resonates in his ear. She gives him a tight squeeze before releasing him, eyes frantically scanning his face, as if she was trying to remember each feature.

"Your hair's shorter," he notes, eying the shoulder-length cut she now sported.

She rolls her eyes. "Really? You haven't seen me in four years and the first thing you have to say is something about my hair?"

"You say that like four years is such a long time," he says dismissively.

She can't contain her smile. "It's four years too many. I missed you, you asshole. It was horrible having to get used to everyone referring to me by my actual name," she admits, endearment in the undercurrent of her words.

He smirks. "I knew you loved it. Always in denial," he tsks.

They talk, laugh, and throw insults at each other. It feels good to fall back into the routine they'd gotten used to back in Mystic Falls and they relish in it. He tells her she looks particularly delicious in that blue dress and she tells him to shove a stake up his ass.

It may not be normal, but it's _them_ and it's _comfortable_.

They walk around the city and he makes his expression stoic when she tells him she's leaving the next day. He sees a women's leather jacket that's practically identical to his own in the window of a designer store and purchases it despite her protests. He sets it over her shoulders and she puts her arms through the sleeves, glaring at him all the while. He's not fooled, he knows she loves it.

"Well?" she asks.

He nods in approval of how the dark leather contrasts to the pretty blue of her dress. "You are now cool enough to be deemed my friend. In public, that is."

She scoffs, although her heart warms slightly at his convoluted compliment.

They catch up some more and Caroline throws in the occasional smile of gratitude as he walks her to her hotel. Once they reach the building, Damon's almost sad to see her go.

"I'll see you later?"

"Of course, babe."

She grins and he bends down to press his lips to her cheek, the kiss lingering longer than need be. She closes her eyes, fully aware he won't be there when she opens them. Her eyelids flutter, and Damon is nowhere to be found.

"I had an amazing time," she says to no one.

Damon laughs in disbelief when he runs into a redhead Caroline in New York just two years later, strides up to her with swagger in his step, taps her on the shoulder and enjoys the way her eyes widen and she laughs in the exact same way he did.

"Well well, looks like Blondie's out of the equation."

He realizes that any road he takes will inevitably lead him back to her.

...

The first time he leaves her, he stays away.

He spends every second of every day mulling over her flaws in his head, desperately hoping to find something worth grasping onto as leverage that would help him get rid of this whatever-it-was that happened to him when she was near him.

Thing is, Damon moved in with her, positive that he could be roommates with her and start spending much more of his time by her side without there being any chain reaction that involved _feelings_ of any sort. Okay, granted, having sex with her constantly and requesting she doesn't sleep with anyone else wasn't exactly the best idea - nevermind the fact that he thoroughly enjoys her company, whether they're watching a movie or stealing blood bags from the local hospital.

Nevertheless, this isn't supposed to happen.

I mean, he's still supposed to be hung up on Elena, right?

Nevermind that she was his sister-in-law now; he carried a torch for her that could light all of fucking _Asia_, and that couldn't have possibly gone away in just six years.

Could it?

He runs his hand through his raven locks exasperatedly when he conceives that the brunette hasn't even crossed his mind in days.

That evening, he finds himself at a seedy bar in Brooklyn, drinking himself into oblivion.

Damon ignores Alaric's text messages, telling him to grow some balls and be the man his woman needs him to be. He hates when his best friend is right. Bastard.

He shoos away every girl that makes a sad attempt at talking him up, mentally comparing whoever it was to Caroline.

_Too tall. Nose is too big. Body is too perfect. Hair doesn't fall in quite the same way._

When a woman stalks up to him, brown hair, brown eyes, and innocent face, Damon buys her a drink and chats her up. He knows he's treading dangerous waters, flirting with a woman that only slightly contrasted against Elena and Katherine, but curiosity kills the cat, and he continues. He advances his experiment by relentlessly fucking her against the outside wall of the club, face buried into her olive skin.

He pulls out, buckles his belt, and walks away without so much as a backward glance.

Other women just don't do it for him anymore. Not even the Petrova doppelgangers.

He finds himself longing for _her_ long curls, _her_ cyan eyes, _her_ infectious laugh.

_Dangerous waters indeed_.

...

The first time he comes back, she welcomes him with open arms.

She smiles sadly when she sees him standing in her - _their_ - doorway.

"Hey, you," she greets softly.

Without missing a beat, he walks over to her and kisses her fervently, wrapping his arms around her middle. She rubs his back as he nestles his nose to the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, letting it fill him up and warm him from head to toe.

He tells her of the Elena/Katherine carbon copy he found at the bar. He notices the way she stiffs and her jaw clenches that she wants to rip the girl to shreds and decides against bringing the idea up. His blue eyes are looking at her and she detects remorse swimming in his orbs.

"I don't love her anymore. Either of them," he whispers.

Silence. She's fighting the doubt threatening to rise in her heart.

"I fucked up."

She nods and combs her fingers through his hair. "It's okay."

She loves him regardless. Forgives everything he's done and everything he'll do.

...

The first time he tells her he loves her, it's old news.

They're walking through the streets, hand in hand and she's not wearing any makeup and there's suddenly this ethereal glow that engulfs her frame and he curses himself for not realizing it sooner.

He'd put this woman through hell, given her every reason to hate him, and yet, at the end of the day, she was always there for him to fall back on. She had the biggest heart of anyone he'd ever come across and she understood him better than anyone else could. She never tried to change him or pressure him into being something he wasn't, she just accepted what pieces he decided to give her.

His soulmate.

"I love you," he blurts out, and she stops walking.

An easy smile spreads on her face, affection swimming in the depths of her eyes. "Took you long enough. I love you too, Damon," she replies effortlessly.

Between them, it's like breathing.

...

The first time he proposes to her, she can't help but laugh.

It's nothing like she ever thought it would be, bearing no similarity to any of the multitude of scenarios that she'd conjured up with Elena and Bonnie in her bedroom when she was nine, all those years ago. Nothing goes as expected when it comes to Damon, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

She's sitting at the island in their kitchen, wearing one of Damon's shirts and flipping through a magazine, sipping blood from a tumbler as she tries to persuade him to make her a batch of chocolate chip pancakes. He smiles and walks over to where she's seated, setting a small velvet box on the counter between them. She swallows and looks up at him underneath her eyelashes. Caroline can't help the way her heart swells when he chuckles and nudges the box closer to her with his index finger.

"Really?"

Her voice is too small for his comfort and he reaches out, stroking her cheek with his finger.

"Always," he assures her, taking her hand in his and pressing his lips to each of her knuckles in feather-light kisses. "Caroline Forbes, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Her eyes trace his face for any sign of uncertainty or hesitation, and when she finds none, she lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. And suddenly she's laughing, covering her mouth with her hand in attempt to keep her giggles at bay when she wraps her head around the fact that her hair's a mess and she's wearing bunny slippers and she just got proposed to by Damon Salvatore.

_Holy crap._

She just got proposed to by Damon Salvatore.

Her mood shifts, going from incredulity to overbearing joy, and water's cascading down her cheeks in less time than it takes Damon to register, causing the vampire to roll his eyes at her neurotic tendencies.

"C'mon Blondie, cut the hormones. Whaddaya say?"

She sends a dazzling smile his way through her tears and nods her head yes, her smile growing more pronounced when his lips meet hers and she feels him place the ring on her finger without breaking their kiss.

It's the easiest decision she's ever made.

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><p><strong>reviews are love.<strong>


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